


Hands

by lawless



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Shuichi Being Shuichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:56:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawless/pseuds/lawless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shuichi appreciates Eiri’s hands for all sorts of reasons, not just the obvious ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> It only took me two years to edit this after beta review and post it. :D Thanks to HawkClowd for the beta review.

I love to watch Eiri’s hands when he drives. When he’s going straight, the steering wheel barely moves. On winding roads, he turns the steering wheel with ease. If he’s driving in traffic, he slams the shifter around, but I can tell it’s just impatience because he has to shift so often. When he’s on the open highway, he handles the shifter much more gently, coaxing it where he wants it to go. 

I love to watch Eiri’s hands flying over the keys on his laptop. He types rapidly and without hesitation whether he’s adding or deleting text. Of course, sometimes he has to sit and think for awhile or write something down first before typing it, but once he starts typing there’s almost no stopping him. 

I love to watch Eiri’s hands when he cooks. He wields the utensils so deftly, chopping onions, cutting up meat, separating skin from melon. I could never do that so well. I’d cut myself first. He whisks eggs and stirs batter without the ingredients slopping over the side. Me, I’d whisk and stir them all over the counter. I wonder: how does he manage to keep it all so contained? 

I love to watch Eiri’s hands when he’s shaving. He’s so careful and hardly ever nicks himself. His fans might not realize it, because his face is so beautiful and angelic and the color of his hair is so light, but he develops rough stubble if he stops shaving even for a day. Occasionally, when he’s engrossed in his writing and doesn’t need to go out, or if we’re away on vacation, he won’t bother shaving for a day or two, and I get to caress that stubble. I’ve discovered that the roughness feels kind of nice against my skin when he goes down on me. 

I love to watch Eiri’s hands when he’s putting on or removing his clothes. It’d be easy to think it’s just because I like seeing him undress, and I do, but it’s the way he does it, like a cat gracefully stretching to put something on or take something off. I know cats don’t wear clothes, but you understand what I mean, don’t you? 

I love to watch Eiri’s hands, period. They’re long, with thin fingers. I’m a little envious; they look like pianists’ hands. When I took piano lessons, I had a hard time reaching further than an octave. He’d have no difficulty, though. 

I love to watch Eiri’s hands caress me. Even more, I love to _feel_ his hands caress me. Not just in that special intimate place that’s reserved for him, but everywhere: caressing my face, stroking my back, rubbing my nipples, feeling me up inside until I feel like I’m about to burst from pure pleasure. I know I haven’t much of a basis for comparison, but no one makes me feel like he does: alive and like I’m ablaze. He can make me come with just a few quick strokes. 

When we’re finished, I love to watch him run his hands through my hair and put an arm around me before he goes to sleep. I love watching his hands even when they, and the rest of him, are still.


End file.
